Thirteen Weeks

Hi, Baby.

I'm thirteen weeks pregnant, and that makes you approximately the size of a peach. Pretty wild, huh? I lie really still sometimes and try to feel you moving, but we still have a few weeks to go before your flutters are obviously flutters. I'm really looking forward to that. I'm also looking forward to finding out what your gender is! I have an ultrasound in two weeks, when I'll be fifteen weeks pregnant, and it's possible that we'll find out then, but it could still be early, or you could have your little legs crossed, or any number of obstacles. Don't worry, we'll find out sooner or later. Until then, we're registering for lots of gender neutral nursery things.

We've picked your nursery theme! I'll include a picture with this entry. I hope you like it. Your dad and I sure do! The theme is Peter Rabbit, who is actually sort of a naughty rabbit, but also very brilliant and adorable. We'll read you lots of Beatrix Potter books, and I hope that you will love them as much as I do.

Well, little one, it's almost time for me to get ready for my doctor's appointment. I'm excited to hear your heartbeat again!

Love,

Your Mom

The Perils of Dehydration

Dear Baby,

I'm writing this post on my phone from the waiting room of the ER. Your poor mother has been very sick during these first few months of pregnancy and now she's dehydrated to the point that they need to get some fluids in her. Nothing to worry about, and I promise she loves you anyway. In fact, she must really enjoy being sick because she keeps telling me she hopes the next one is twins. Baby, I love your mother, but sometimes it's unfortunate how crazy she is.

But that's not even the reason I'm writing today. You see, this morning before we came here, we had an appointment where I got to hear your heartbeat for the first time. At least they told me it was a heartbeat. There may actually be a herd of horses in your mother's womb. Anyway, I've seen you on the ultrasound before, but something about hearing you for the first time was incredibly moving.

I'm sitting in the waiting room of an ER and I still have a smile on my face and think this is a good day.

Fatherhood is weird.

You Have a Dad, Too!

Dear Baby,

While your mother has spent an awful lot of time telling you about your cats and your cousins, there doesn't appear to be a lot of information here about me. I guess that's because I'm supposed to write that part. But I need to apologize in advance, though, baby, because I'm terrible at writing. I don't mean the actual mechanics of it. I'm passable there at least. I mean the actual process of sitting down and putting words into a box at any kind of regular interval. This won't mean anything to you by the time you're old enough to care about this, because by then you'll be zipping around in your flying car (wearing your forcefield restraint, of course) and sending brain-mails to your friends. Your dad doesn't have this luxury and I have to type my words on an old-fashioned computer just like the pilgrims and Jane Austen did.

First off, let me say this: I'm very excited to meet you. I realize that might go without saying, but I felt the need to get it out there. Your mom bought me a book called I Can't Wait to Meet My Daddy, and while it's absolutely the stupidest thing I've ever read, I cry every single time I read it. I'm tearing up right now just THINKING about it. Seriously, Baby, one day you're going to read this, and read that book, and think, "My dad was a total pansy." I don't really have any excuse. Just remember that it was your fault, because I used to be really manly and could probably fix a carburetor or something. (You don't know what that is, because flying cars don't have them. That's okay. Between you and me, I don't know what that is, either.)

There are a million things I want to tell you, but the most important part of the story is this: Your mother and I love each other more than I ever knew it was possible to love another person. I think too many kids have to wonder that about their parents. I hope you won't ever wonder that. I hope it will always be obvious. But I wanted you to know for sure.  But as much as we love each other, I know that we already love you just as much, and we'll love your brother or sister, too. And if your mother gets her way, we'll love the third one, too.

I think love is a good place to start.

(Note to self: If/when Baby #3 is born, edit this post to make it look like the whole thing was my idea from the start. At least before Baby #3 learns how to read. Or if editing seems like too much work, make sure Baby #3 never learns to read.)

Advice From Your Cousin Autumn

Hi, Baby.

Your cousin Autumn is three years old, and she knows a lot of stuff about a lot of stuff. She has a few pieces of advice to share with you, to prepare you for life outside of my uterus.

1.) Eat with your fingers. It is much less complicated than using forks and spoons, and dinnertime will be so much more fun.

2.) When reading a book, skip pages. It'll make the story seem different and surprising every single time.

3.) When your parents are talking, and you have something to say, just say it louder.

4.) Crayons taste better without wrappers. They just do. Similarly, food tastes better once it's been on the floor.

5.) It's okay to have gas. It's actually really funny. So have lots of it, and announce it when you do.

6.) Anything you find on the floor can and should be used as a musical instrument.

I hope these tips are helpful, Baby.

Love,

Your Mom

Crackers and Toast, Toast and Crackers

Hi, Baby.

I managed to get an awful lot of writing done this weekend, which was something of a miracle, because I was tossing an awful lot of cookies. (That's just a saying. I haven't eaten cookies in a very long time. I guess, technically, I was tossing a lot of crackers and toast.) I have a doctor's appointment on Wednesday to check things out. (We may even get to hear/see your heartbeat again!)

I'm a worry wart about you. When I have a hard time keeping water and juice down, I worry that I'm dehydrating you. When I have a hard time keeping toast down, I worry that I'm starving you. I wonder if I'll still worry like this after you are born? I bet I will. I'll be that mom who holds mirrors under your nose while you're sleeping to make sure you're still breathing. That will only get weird when you're eighteen or nineteen years old, and I have to sneak into your college dorm to do it. (I'm kidding! Also, let's not talk about college just yet. It's too soon. My pregnant emotions can't take it.)

This past weekend, your dad got a new game called "Skyrim." As excited as he was about playing the game, he still took breaks to rub my back when I was getting sick. That's love. :)

Thanksgiving is next week, and I keep thinking about how much I have to be thankful about this year. (So much.) Maybe you and I can even work out some kind of a deal, so that I can try some mashed potatoes and stuffing? What do you say, Baby?

Love,

Your Mom

Baby Lute!

Hi, Baby.

Your dad and I are so excited to meet you, and we wanted to keep a blog for you (that we'll turn into a little book once you arrive). I'm about twelve weeks pregnant with you, and that makes you the size of a lime. (This is why your mom's pants don't button anymore.) We won't know your gender for at least a couple more weeks, so we'll just call you Baby Lute until we find out. (And man, are we excited to find out!)

So, here's the story, morning glory. Your mom is an MFA student at Hamline. I'm finishing up my thesis in between trips to the bathroom. (My morning sickness has been pretty impressive, but you are so worth it, I promise.) Your dad is a software developer at 38 Studios in Providence. We have two cats, which means that you'll have two cats. A good thing to keep in mind might be that cats don't like to be yanked on. When in doubt, be gentle. You'll get the hang of it. :)

You already have so many people who are excited to meet you! There's Mom and Dad (of course!), and then your grandparents! Memeré Beauregard is my mom. She calls you "little peanut," and she lives in New Hampshire with your Ooompa Alan. (Nope, that's not a typo. When your cousin Autumn was born, Memeré told Alan that he had to decide what he wanted to be called. He took too long deciding, so I picked for him. "Oompa." He decided to spell it with three O's, because he is exceptionally silly, and it stuck! Autumn has been calling him Ooompa ever since!) Your Grandma Jill is Dad's mom, and she lives in Indiana with your Auntie Anni. They can't wait to meet you! Then there's your Uncle Michael and Auntie Nan, who live in Massachusetts. Auntie Nan is pregnant, too, with your cousin Robert! You'll be very close in age, and we're excited to have lots of play dates. Uncle Michael and Auntie Nan are your cousin Autumn's parents, too. Autumn will be about three and a half years older than you, and she'll teach you lots of neat stuff. You have lots of second and third cousins, great-aunts and great-uncles, and three great-grandparents! What a lucky baby you already are!

Here's a picture of your dad with Grandma Jill:

And one of your mom with Memeré:

I'll say 'bye for now, Baby, but will write again soon!

Love,

Your Mom